Because maidens
Burn
Like celluloid,
They fitted
Me
With a
Hood,
A
Fire-fighting
Talisman
For
My own
Inner blaze.
And yet
We reciprocate
Like conversation,
Tongues embracing
Teeth
And appetites
In
Private riot.
My forest-dog,
My liege,
My gentleman
King Kong
Lights up
An
Amazon boudoir
(Two women
The
Same night!)
He hushes
My manners,
Uncapes me
With
A God's
Hairy hand,
Imperative
As sex
And
As sweet
As darlings
New-found
And thumbling
In ears
The remembrance
Of
What ever
Was.
He perished
In my
Second birthing,
In my
Learning
Of the
Purest heresy
Of
Blood and guts.
Now
I keep
My strangers
Strained,
But sometimes
Even
The moon
Looks like
A man
In a dress.
About the Author: Karen Daly is an Australian academic and writer with an interest in folklore, fairy tales, and feminist literature. This poem was inspired by the fairy tale Little Red Riding Hood.
Copyright © 2000 by Karen Daly. The poem may not be reproduced in any form without the author’s express written permission.